


Not Quite Angels

by Futsin



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: (sort of but Carmine's still a jerk), Anal Play, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angsty and Porn, BDSM, Blindfolds, Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Hot, Naked Cuddling, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Smut to Feelings, Submission, Sweat, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26643505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Futsin/pseuds/Futsin
Summary: It's been a while since the orgy. It's been a little bit since they finally consummated together. Now, Shirley and Carmine's relationship has gotten to experimentation in the shadows of blindfolds and the hot sensations of unerring lust.(Follows Out of the Closet)
Relationships: Shirley Feeney/Carmine Ragusa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3
Collections: Laverne and Shirley Pornoverse





	Not Quite Angels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



> Part of the little L&S Pornoverse as we've called it, following "Out of the Closet" by me and "Simmer Time" by Missy.

The heady mix of smells and sensations made her whimper, shake, then cry out. With the makeshift blindfold across Shirley's face, it allowed her to rest her eyes, to give in. Masculine hands touched her in ways that she used to only dream about... not because she had never felt the touch of man, that had changed suddenly a few weeks ago, but because they were Carmine's. Her beautiful Prince Charming, whose voice made her wet whenever he sang, whose muscles had rescued her so many times, and whose dancing inspired her to keep dreaming of all the things she could be. She was here, wrapped in ropes around her ankles and her hands behind her back, now at her on-off boyfriend's, her childhood sweetheart's, her Big Ragoo's mercy.

She'd asked him for this, had wanted to feel under his spell instead of he under hers for once. Their first time had been a mix of seduction and rage, emotions they'd needed to purge and cleans from themselves. To her surprise, and jealous dismay, he not only agreed to it warmly, he was clearly skilled with the ropes he bound her hands. At least, she told herself, she'd supplied the scarf to cover her eyes; a thicker red one that Shirley only wore when she was with Carmine, to make people guess as to how far their relationship had gone.  
How far has it gone now? she thought in questions to herself, ones that spiraled in a middle different labyrinthine pathways. Some led to daydreams of them stopping this madness, confessing their sins in church, and getting married. Others led to her leaving him because he was too rough or she was tired of 

So far, he'd not stopped sliding them around her waist, her thighs, teasing her that he would touch her pussy again. It made her writhe around, realizing that he'd laid her down such that his cock was close to her face. The scent of him filled her nose, the same mustiness she'd sensed when their car make-outs had gotten intense, and the familiar heaviness since the first (but not only) time she'd kneeled between his legs to suck him off.

She never thought it'd happen, for years she'd spent money on magazines, books, that told her of these kind of scandalous pleasures she could never have, but here she was... living out a fantasy of being bound, of being a damsel in a pulpy book, who was "helpless." That it was okay to feel pleasure because the bad man had pulled the orgasm out of her lustful womanly body.

And yet. She was in control. He promised her, in a scared voice unbecoming the buff, hairy-chested, ex-boxer that he was; he would stop as soon as she said no. Much as the one time he'd been rough with her in bed had hurt, and hurt in a way she wasn't sure she liked, the tender love Carmine had for Shirley was something that always made her feel safe.

So far, no urge to say no arose, even as he let his hands roam her nude form, or his breath became deeper when he squeezed her thighs. Not even as he turned her on her side and gripped her butt cheeks, spreading them so he could gawk where the sun don't shine on her body. She blushed red in places she didn't know she could and though she couldn't see, she felt the blood rush there. Her hands, her breasts, her tummy, even her butt were blushing as Carmine looked at her. 

His face moved down her down her body, moving his cock away from her mouth (she missed its warmth immediately). Then there was nothing but the touch of his hands on her derriere. He breathed on her pussy and crinkly rosebud while his firm, calloused-yet-moisturized fingers kept her spread. She shivered, a new heat that somehow gave her goosebumps. Goosebumps! His even, slow, deep breaths across her body were sometimes intentional and sometimes not. In her blindfolded and bound state, she was able to note the difference, scrunching her toes and feeling the knot in her belly tightened each time.

Shirley wondered, her clit vibrating and nipples aching as she did, if he'd finger her asshole first. She'd told him it had happened before with another lover (she didn't get specific that it'd been 2, which took her _so much_ self control) and he'd been offended despite his cock throbbing suddenly inside her pussy at the time. That time, she'd even asked him if he would like to stick his finger in there, timidly in that begging needy boo-boo face kind of way. He'd said, to her surprise, that he didn't want to. _Nah, that's okay_ had been specifically what he had said. Maybe now he'd changed his mind, she thought?

Then there was his tongue across her furry folds. Her body froze; a groan caught in her gut, wetness oozed from her, and she _squeaked_. Carmine's laugh made her cheeks shake as he rested his chin across her flanks. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't realize I was making love to a chipmunk." She squirmed, wanting to hit him instinctively, but she couldn't move quite so good with her hands bound at the wrist and just out of reach. Instead her movement made her hiney slide against his face. He laughed, then licked her again, getting another squeak! out of Shirley. "Carmiiiiinnnnneee," she whined and that became his cue to not stop tasting her until her squeaks dropped into a low groan. 

He steadied her hips with his hands, keeping her from rolling on her back or front, while he tasted between her thighs until she was a properly gooey mess. Though she had no fear she would squirt her orgasm all over his face, she was still dripping with need, desire, longing.   
Then his firm hand kept her in place as he shifted his hips on the bed. She'd almost forgotten they were in one while his mouth was on her, but suddenly the texture of the sheets catching around her brought her back to the moment. _No-no, I'm slipping out of control here,_ she thought nervously and whimpered, "Carmine?"

His hands suddenly left her. "You all right? That a no?" His heat was moving away, she could hear him shuffling to the other side of the mattress. Part of her regretted saying anything. "Come back to me, hold me," she cried out and in a flash, there he was. Holding her. His warmth, his naked body. His cock nestled between her cheeks and already got wet from her sinful parts. Had she corrupted him, she wondered? No, part of her replied, you two belong together.

Suddenly, she had to bite her lip until it almost bled to keep her mother's chiding about "marry a doctor" quiet this time. It helped when his arms pulled her close at the shoulders, soothing what he assumed correctly were the muscles getting sore. She felt him loosen the rope a little. "How's that?" he asked, then started his hands roaming again. Her bare breast yearned, strained for him. "Just tell me what you want, angelface." One of his hands roamed up to that face of hers, softly petting it, pulling it toward his own mouth and making her turn almost onto her back. His kiss was so much more intense when her eyes were shut, but now having her eyes open under the scarf wrapped around her, it was nigh cosmic.

"Condom," she gasped. "Put it.. on.. please, Carmine." She started humping back against him, writhing so that his cock was getting dangerously close to going in unprotected. An almost-sob came out of her when he moved off her again too fast and there he was again in a flash. "What, what, do you want me to put it on or not?" he said, a little fire in his voice, but it was soothed when he realized he was allowed still to touch her breasts. He cupped one and it just made her into a squirmy mess again. Squirmy Squeaky Shirley; she was beginning to get a lot of smutty nicknames.

With what little braincells weren't focused on irrational primal passion, Shirley shook her head. "Go slow, Carmine, I want you, I want _this_ , but the blindfold, the ropes, it's... I'm very sensitive right now." The laugh that came as a reply made her shudder, as did the kiss on her shoulder and then one on her apple cheek. "I can see that. I'm sorry, Shirl. Be right back."

"Promise?" she whimpered, feeling like her nipples were going to explode if he teased her again.

Another warm embrace, this time around her waist and with the energy she'd known for so long from him; since he'd taken her to a scary movie and they'd gotten lost on the way home, since that time they were together side-by-side during a power outage at school, and since all the hundreds of other times that reminded her they were still kids. It was all she needed, but hearing him say it was just the whipped cream and cherry on top. "Promise."

She was left alone again, sighing and allowed to compose herself without the sudden fear from the loss of his body, his protection. Knowing he was still at her beck and call made her feel like it was okay; she was in control of this. He would use the condom, he would stroke inside her just the way she liked, and he would let her come first. Then, they would snuggle for fifteen minutes before he would ask her out to a date next week.

That train of daydreaming thought was taken off the rails the second he returned, embracing her from behind. The lubricated rubber slid across, but not inbetween, her ass cheeks. Shirley whimpered again with the torturous indecision of keep teasing and give it to me already. But Carmine, in control, gripped her hips in one hand and aimed himself with the other. She felt the stickiness of the condom against her soft warm skin, the pulse of his penis, the heat off his hips and the bristly hairs on his body scratching her... then all that combined into the sensation of him parting her folds and sliding deeply into her in one, long, intense thrust. 

With her eyes merely shut, or with them peering out, or looking into her lover's eyes, Shirley could always feel her body accepting a desired cock. Blindfolded, stimulated to the point she was vibrating on the bed and panting shallowly, she could practically taste Carmine's girth inside her. She did, her senses told her, hear the sticky sound of him slipping inside. The rustle of his pubes against her butt-cheeks that made her quiver, the thatch of hair allowing her to grind her ass to scratch any other little itches on her skin there. The smell of her sex parting, of his own seemingly closer to her than when she'd licked his member.

Instinctively, her pussy gripped, squeezed, first like it closed off to keep him out. His hand squeezed her left thigh and his gasp fell into her ear, a wet breath that felt like his lips were suckling on her skin. His breath still smelled like the fruit she'd served him earlier. Shirley moaned and yielded to his cock, to the way his hands glided along her smooth, young flesh. Her wrists, bound, reached to touch his body, delighting in what parts of him she could gain purchase. The restraint, the blindfold, now she could _feel_ the sweat pouring out of every part of her, droplets forming on her thighs and a font down her face she could lick into her mouth. Carmine even responded to it, catching a swath of it on his fingers and bringing it to his lips to lick right by her ear, so she could hear him taste her.

Gasping, sighing, she had only one thing to say. The request, she thought, of a nymphomaniac. "Fuck me."

Immediately, Carmine's hands went to her waist, gripped hard with spread fingers, and he pulled back only to push into Shirley quickly. The first thrust was a test of her reaction. With little ability to balance herself, she was in his control, his hands, and what strong, gorgeous hands they were to hold her so well. The sway of her body at his hips impacting her bottom made her feel weightless for a fraction of a second, then it was there again and she let herself go even more, trusting her body in bondage to the lover she so desired.

Then, sliding almost all the way out, Shirley felt her cunt hollow out from his departure and whined, only to squeal when he slid back into her slowly, tenderly, kissing her neck the entire time. The smacking of his lips was so loud she couldn't hear her gasping, the wetness of his saliva making a little drool that slid down across her throat as she lay on her side. Shirley whimpered. "You're teasingggg meeee." And he chuckled, low like a man, but mischievious like a boy.

"You like how I fuck you?" he said as he began a rhythm inside her, slow and steady.

She squeaked when he bottomed out, deep. Then he was sliding back out, making her sway and tighten her pussy around him to make him stay. "I," she started and shuddered when he was back in her, faster this time. She felt his hand slide from her thigh up to cup her breast again, dragging sweat. His fingers, she could now tell, still smelled like her juices from fingering her earlier. In a slutty reminder of her times with Laverne, Shirley wanted to taste them. "Let me suck your fingers," she gasped and there they were, at her lips, and she moaned around the taste of herself. Carmine was still right next to her ear, breath deepening and heating up against her cheek and in her hair, now damp with sweat. "I love watching you be my little whore."

At that, her pussy contracted and her gut sucked in, and he gave her no quarter as his thrusts into her sped up. She was on the precipice of coming, shamefully, at the thought of being Carmine's... well! For a long time, she'd heard the stories of the bad girls who'd played around with him whenever she wasn't dating him. They'd even once had an understanding, but that had gone poorly more than once. Now, she had him all to herself. And it was her turn to be a bad girl for The Big Ragoo, till he forgot all about those others. 

So in spite of herself, the coiled emotions were silenced, muffled, and tossed deep down by the roaring arousal, the sensations that became colors in her blindfolded vision, the taste and texture of sex that unlocked the depths of her sins. "Yes!" she cried out around his tangy fingers, silencing her guilt, wriggling her body back into his. "Tell me!" She openly moaned, the sound of it like zapping herself on static electricity, but across her open body. Tingles in her belly, breasts, and a heat flushing over her collar bone and down to her knees. At once she realized she was close.  
With how fast he was fucking her, Carmine clearly realized it, too. One hand held her steady by gripping her right shoulder that was against the bed. He moved his torso back from her, his face away from hers. It allowed her wrists some freedom to stretch, seeking his body. The knots, as he'd planned, loosened from her struggle till she was freed of them. He shifted after bottoming out in her, stuffing her before helping move her arms to her front. It allowed her to grip his hand on her body and squeeze his fingers tight. "Tell me what you're gonna do to me. How I'll be yours." She was breathy, gasping.

Carmine's other hand slid from her face down, across her collar bone, up to her throat. Her own free hand followed it, as if their fingers were kissing along her sweaty chest. All the while, he spoke dirty things to her, his breath against her hair and back. Shirley had never thought of it as a turn-on, and perhaps it was part of Laverne's corruption of her purity, or Squiggy's, or Lenny's, or all three, but hearing Carmine say it made her tighten into a knot of pleasure that almost became pain.

"I'm gonna fuck you whenever I want. Your body is mine," he was panting himself now, lost in the maelstrom of their sex. She couldn't stop trembling, wanting his chest hair to wrap her like a blanket. Suddenly his fingers coiled around her left breast and twisted, a pinch that hurt more than she wanted, but so lost in it she gave into what sensual delight she could feel off it. "Yes," she shuddered.

"I'll show you off when I please." Carmine breathed this into her, his gripping hand pulling her shoulders back to make her chest stick out. It also let him fuck her until the slap of her ass against him was only drowned out by the drums of her heartbeat as the percussion to the rhythm of her panting. And in the pause that followed while his hand snaked down to her navel, she felt in that moment she would let him show her off. Shirley pictured Carmine's big strong arms tearing her clothes off, to let her be seen, be ogled. As happened often when she was about to come, it got to where no matter the fantasy she almost always desired it. But she had a limit she needed to set. "They can look... but... can't... touch!" She grunted, panting so hard she was out of breath. His thrusts strengthened, pounding her until she was almost pushed off him.

His hand on her torso slid around her navel, till his fingernails scratched lines in the sweaty sheen across her skin. He dipped his finger into her belly button, while his thumb gripped her to push her back onto his cock as he fucked her. It sent a tingling shock and quirky feeling through her pelvis, her pussy, and up to her nipples. Set off something primal. And he was groaning more dirty talk at her. From his panting and the way his hand gripped her shoulder so tight it hurt, Shirley knew he was almost there. "Yeah, ungh," he grunted, "and they'll watch me take you. Again. Again. See you get so fucked they'll wish, uagh!" His fingers, at delicious last, found their way into her tangled dark curls between her legs and rubbed for her clit. "They'll wish my cock was theirs. They'll beg. And we'll never - ever! - let them!"

"Yes!" Shirley cried, putting her hands together in front of her to mimic the binding of her wrists, feeling the wetness from her pussy like a slow stream that Carmine was finally going to get gushing. "Carmine! I'm-I'm gonna-!" She was scared, that he was going to be mad about making his bed all wet.

But then, she felt him rubbing her clit faster.

"Come for me, angelface," he said, back at her neck, behind her, beside her, with her, and he thrust slow, deep, hard into her. Strummed her clit like a guitar. "I love you," he gasped a whisper like lighting a match.

Her tinder went up in a blaze.

Behind the blindfold, everything tightened within her. Wetness, heat, spread through her breasts, her tummy, the muscles of her thighs, the soft flesh of her pussy that had been tenderized by Carmine's dick, until it centralized right on the sensitive, inner twitching of her hole and the fullness that had been building inside. Usually, with her legs spread, she gushed in a long stream her girlcome. With her legs bound at the ankles, with Carmine's cock still stuffed into her womanhood with only shallow thrusts to release it, the pressure came out in a flow that each time he pulled out caused a soft splash between her thighs. The sensations of sudden wetness made her shudder while the feeling of his fingers spreading around her clitoral hood caused her to squeak and sob.

She was half-aware of Carmine's words when she caught what he kept saying repeatedly. "That's a good whore. That's a good whore...." And he gasped, burying deep inside her to throb deeper, harder, fuller. She felt his orgasm fill the condom, the swelling stretching her just a little bit more, as he'd been holding it in for a couple of days.

Just for her, she told herself, to soothe the feeling of his dirty words coarsening her naked skin.

His arms came up to embrace Shirley, holding her to him. She spooned her butt, tried to match her legs to his, so that he was a perfect warm cup around her liquid body. There were kisses, tender. Less words. Just... sensation. She still oozed her come out, especially so when he softened and removed himself from inside her. That kept her mind off the ickiness of Carmine slipping the condom off and tossing it in his bin, until the cooling effect of the air made the wetspot they lay in almost uncomfortable.

The blindfold finally was removed by her own hand. She shuddered and slowly let light back into her eyes. It was dusk now, the sun a bleeding orange through the window instead of the bright yellow of daffodils it had been earlier. Shirley moved and found her ankles still bound, her head glancing down. "Carmine? My legs?" Suddenly his firm (also damp, also sticky) hands were there, untying the loosened ropes off her. They burned there with red marks from a tighter bind than he clearly hadn't intended in the way he apologized, first by softly massaging the skin and then by kissing her butt on the way back up to holding her.

"You're quiet. Are you okay?" he asked, pulling strands of her wet hair from her sweaty applecheeks. She didn't know whether to nod or shake her head, but she didn't want to say anything. Shirley felt different with Carmine this time, especially after this freshly-minted sin. They had, as intended, pushed the boundaries of who and what they were to each other. Limits inside her were getting bent like someone took a concrete wall and pushed at it from the top side until it bent like playdough, but what was beyond was a wasteland of debauchery she did not want. "I'm not your whore, Carmine," she finally said. It came out harsher than she expected, but she did not apologize. He needed to know. Though she expected an argument, it was almost sadder that he sighed. "I'm sorry, Shirl. You're right, it was too far."

She shook her head. "Is that what you do with other women? Was that what it was like with Lucille? With _Rosie_?" His hands were leaving her then, feeling cold yet there was also the heat of his anger. Ever since they'd slept together, Carmine hadn't appreciated her bringing up other women like that. Especially since he considered her no different after how she'd tried to rock his world to make up for giving her virginity to, of all people, Andrew fucking Squiggman. The impulse to strike that nerve had been so instantaneous she almost regretted it.

Shirley shivered as he pulled back from her. "Don't stop holding me," she whimpered, a vulnerable demand, and to her surprise, he returned immediately. It was warm again. She watched the sunlight through the window, mind drifting loose in the ocean of sight suddenly freshly all-too-real, and the memories of what they'd done. After a sigh that couldn't move her sweaty hair, he replied. "It was like that with... others... and when I saw how much you got into it, I thought that was what you liked, too." He kissed her shoulder, nuzzled his own hair on hers. "You creamed all over me when I did, too."

Blushing filled her whole body and she thought she was moving away from him, but instead wriggled her butt against his groin and tummy again.

"When I'm..." she thought of what to say, embarrassed all over again. "When I'm frisky, I find a lot of things sexy. When I'm not, I feel dirty."

"Like now," he said, getting it.

Shirley got quiet again. "I... want to submit to you, Carmine. I like how pretending to be helpless makes me feel. You help me let go. But I need to be able to trust you won't push me that far, or make me into something I don't want to be, into something that I'm... not. I need... WE need... we need a way for me to tell you to slow down or stop doing something."

His hand slid down her side, tasting side of her breast for a brief moment before kissing her waist with fingertips and gripping her hips with his palm, his thumb. "We could use a safe word. It helps. You say the word and the other person stops."

Shirley bit her lip and cringed so hard her toes curled. "Did Lucille have one?" And then he laughed. "Nah, I needed one for Rosie. That woman can make a man weep!" Of course, a bitter part of her said, he brings up the woman who constantly humiliates her best friend (and her more than once) whenever she can. But that thought of him needing to be kept _safe_ from Rosie made her very curious as to what Carmine had gotten up to and very nervous about the possibilities. Then again, maybe Laverne would like to hear about some of those things.

His arms squeezed her to him in an embrace that suddenly washed a lot of her worries away, the way he often did when they were fighting and just needed to make out to get over it. Shirley tried to remain mad, remain stern, but she felt tired after the sex, the bondage, the come that exploded her senses. Her resolve gave a little, she was ashamed to admit. And dreaming of how he was going to promise her and finally live up to that promise came to her very easily. 

"Listen, Shirl," he said, sighing. "I know that I'm a bad guy some times. And I've been with a lot of women... whores, too... but you're my best girl. I hope you know that." He kissed her neck. 

"Am I?" she asked, thinking it would come out small and helpless, only to hear it flow like magma, mother nature accusing mankind.

Carmine paused. "I screwed up. And I'm sorry. You know, more than once, girls have called me up and talked all kinds of dirty talk on the phone. Not just Lucille, not just Rosie, not just Denise or Muriel." Shirley scoffed, but he continued. "And I didn't go out with them. Some of them woulda let me do anything, some _wanted_ me to do anything..."

"So why didn't you?" she asked, wanting to crawl out of bed, punch him, the knot in her stomach at what she hoped he was going to say mingling with the rage in her gut that was also growing. And why, she wondered, was she still naked with this man?

"Because I wanted to go out with you."

Shirley, a little mad at herself and a lot mad at him, scoffed again. "And not have a good time?"

He shook his head, a sensation she felt in the way his nose went through her hair. "I didn't always have a bad one. And you know... I like the way you smile when I win you something. Or when we go to the movies and you hold my hand." To which he held hers. "It reminds me of being a kid again, when we were figuring this all out at the beginning... I don't wanna lose that, Shirley."

Tears that she forgot could happen, happened. They fell down the side of her, across her eyes and the bridge of her nose, curling under her hair. "Okay," was all she said. "I promise I won't ever call you that ever again," he said with intent. 

"You promise?" she asked, that little dream starting to glow inside her. He would keep it this time, she swore to the universe.

"I promise. You're only my angelface."

"And your best girl?" she offered, biting her lip, starting to get choked up. He laughed. "Yeah. My best girl. A good girl."

They held eachother face to face for a while after that. He let her cry in his arms and comforted her, up until it was getting too cold in the bed for them to stay there. Too tired to continue talking about it, arguing about it, they both made quiet promises to come up with a word so that he didn't push her over the edge again. As they rose naked in the dusk, they looked at their wet, sticky bodies and giggled. She showered in his bathroom, which he wanted to watch and she let him in return for his sweetness. 

There was a fresh erection on his naked waist when he put a shirt on as she got her purse. She walked to the door, then turned to look back at Carmine, bottomless and hard. "One more for the road?" he said with that winner smile on his face. Shirley cocked an eyebrow suggestively and dropped the purse. "What would you like?" she asked.

"Gimme the Shirley Feeny Shimmy." His smile broadened into a grin.

And thus, his best girl wiggled her shoulders and bobbed her knees and twisted her feet as she shimmied over toward him, making her body and clothes shake. Her mouth hung low in a husky, sexual way. And now that she'd begun learning how to use her body, her hips swayed more, her arms were more directed in their movements, and her eyes really knew what they were talking about. He was throbbing by the time she got up to him, wrapped her small hand around his cock, and asked, "Good enough, mister??"

Carmine groaned into her shoulder and kissed her lips, feeling her tongue slip out to taste him. When he pulled back, she was stroking him. "How about master?"

Shirley's eyes twinkled even as she resisted. "Well." Her pace on him increased and he grit his teeth. "I'll think about it." And suddenly she released his cock, turned around, retrieved her purse, and was out the door. With a dropped jaw of shock and a deflating, surprised penis, Carmine Ragusa wondered out loud. "What the hell just happened?"


End file.
